


spark me like a wire

by tristesses



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: (sort of), Alcohol, Biting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Light Choking, M/M, Military Ranks, Nipple Play, Possessive Behavior, Sadism, Uniform Kink, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/pseuds/tristesses
Summary: On the night of his promotion to commander, Eli takes a few risks. They pay off.





	spark me like a wire

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to 13th_blackbird for all your help and encouragement!
> 
> Title snagged from [Krewella - Fire Hive remix](https://youtu.be/iuTOmyGXW6o).

_As galas go,_ Eli mused over a glass of Daruvvian champagne, _this isn't that bad._

The commander's plaque on his chest helped quite a bit with the usual stress that came with being a backwater yokel among the Coruscanti elite; he'd proven himself and he'd moved up in rank, and now, when people met his eyes, they didn't sneer. Much, at least. It was an improvement. And they _certainly_ didn't sneer at Thrawn any more—not to his face—not now that he had that shiny admiral's plaque on _his_ uniform.

There was, Eli had discovered, pleasure in power. Oh, he knew humility was important, and he wouldn't rub it in anyone's face…but tonight, on the night of his promotion, he felt like he could enjoy himself.

His eyes slid across the room, chock-full of the rich and glamorous and speckled with the dark uniforms of Imperial officers, and landed on Thrawn.

 _Admiral_ Thrawn. It had a nice ring to it. And he looked sharp in the neatly-cut dress uniform: black with gold piping, a better contrast against his cerulean skin than the olive drab of their normal uniform.

An amorphous thought floated across Eli's mind: Thrawn didn't just look sharp, but _good._ Good as in attractive. Good as in _delectable_.

 _Good,_ Eli reminded himself, _as in the sort of thoughts you shouldn't be having in public._

The admiral was speaking with Moff Lorennion with the expressionlessly attentive look he used when he very much didn't care about the conversation at all. He'd learned a little bit about politics in the past decade, it seemed.

Eli chugged the rest of his champagne, earning a mildly scandalized look from a lady in an unnecessarily glittery dress, and decided to rescue him. It was a plus side of being a high-ranking officer's aide: he could go to Thrawn's side and say anything in an urgent tone of voice, and the other person in the conversation would assume something important had happened that Thrawn just _had_ to attend to. It was a ploy they'd used often enough that Thrawn would recognize it now.

Sure enough, when Eli twined his way through the crowd and touched Thrawn's arm lightly to alert him, Thrawn turned that attentive gaze on him with just the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth—few would have thought it was a smile at all. Eli knew better.

"Sir," Eli said in a low voice, "you have an urgent call from—"

"Ah, of course," said Thrawn, recognizing the gambit. "It's expected." Turning to Lorennion, he said, in as gracious a tone as Thrawn could muster, "As always, a pleasure. You'll excuse me."

He turned away, his glass of champagne balanced between his gloved fingers, and set it on a passing server's tray. Eli stuck to his side like a burr, and murmured in Thrawn’s ear, "You think we've been here long enough?"

"I believe we have," Thrawn replied quietly.

Eli relaxed in relief. The champagne was good, and the respectful nods he and Thrawn earned were better, but if he was going to celebrate with alcohol, he'd rather do it with a bottle of whiskey in his quarters on the _Chimaera,_ and not here with a bunch of people he didn't care about.

He said as much to Thrawn, who gave him a sideways look and said, "You're already well on your way to being drunk, Commander."

"Yes," Eli conceded, "but to be fair, we're not on duty tonight."

"A warrior is always on duty, even if unofficially."

Eli sighed. There were times when he wondered what it would be like to be the aide to someone more like the average Imperial officer—the sort of person who would drink with him off-shift, who didn't take every possible moment as a teaching opportunity. It would be pretty boring, he always decided in the end. He'd spent his career dealing with high-ranking officials, and he'd take Thrawn over the rest of them any day.

"That said," Thrawn continued, "I've recently acquired a cask of a rare liquor from Wild Space. It's said to be appealing to the human palate. The bottles themselves are works of art," he added consideringly. "The world takes pride in the skill of their artisans. Perhaps you could do me the honor of trying it with me."

Eli blinked at him. "I thought you just said we couldn't drink on the job, sir."

"I said a warrior is always on duty," Thrawn corrected, "not that he couldn't indulge if desired."

_Indulge?_

Eli knew what that meant, and a low heat rose in his belly. So that was how it was going to be tonight.

"In that case, sir," Eli said with a slow smile, "lead the way."

* * *

On the shuttle to the _Chimaera_ , Thrawn predictably pulled out a datapad and called up a few screens of text—probably more information on Nightswan, or research into another one of his uncountable plans or projects. Eli doubted he was capable of truly relaxing, or that he would even want to, for that matter. Luckily, Eli was there to do it for the both of them.

The champagne had loosened Eli’s limbs enough that he felt able to slouch a little, despite his habit of strict military posture. Funny how alcohol seemed to unbend your spine like that. He stuck out his legs and crossed them at the ankle, and watched Thrawn read.

Thrawn’s brow was wrinkled ever so slightly in thought, his eyes flickering across the screen. He was, Eli thought, and not for the first time, really very attractive, and Eli felt no need to add the _for an alien_ qualifier so many people seemed to use. He had a strong nose and jawline and wickedly sharp cheekbones, unusually so: it was a facial structure that would have marked him as non-human even if it weren't for the blue skin and forehead ridges. Eli liked those too—he liked the way they felt under his fingers and his lips, liked how sensitive they were and the way Thrawn shivered when he tongued them.

He hoped he'd get an opportunity to make Thrawn tremble like that tonight. Somehow, he suspected he would.

There was a bulkhead between them and the shuttle pilot. They were alone in the shuttle. Eli nudged Thrawn with his foot and said, in a low voice, "I know what you want."

Thrawn glanced at him over the datapad.

"Do you indeed?" he asked coolly.

"Yes, sir," Eli said. He licked his lips; he thought he was reading Thrawn right, but this was a big risk to take. He leaned forward, dropped his voice to a whisper. "To be on your knees and begging. Isn't that right?"

Thrawn's eyes flicked to the door separating the passengers' area from the pilot's cabin.

"You know she can't hear us," Eli said.

"There are ways," Thrawn said in return, equally quiet. "It would be simple to rewire the intercom system to always transmit, or place recording devices throughout the shuttle—"

"On your personal command shuttle? Doubt it," Eli said. "Who would even have access? I asked you a question, Admiral."

Thrawn was silent for a long moment, drawing it out enough that Eli had to keep himself from fidgeting. Had he misjudged? Was that not what Thrawn wanted at all? The nagging fear he always tried to avoid—that Thrawn would decide this part of their relationship violated protocol too much to continue—tried to rear its ugly head. Eli forced it back.

Thrawn set the datapad down. He was focused solely on Eli now, his eyes burning, his face set and intent.

"Yes, Commander," he said evenly. "You know what I want."

"I think you should get on your knees," Eli said.

Thrawn arched an eyebrow. "We have five minutes."

"Plenty of time," Eli said. He no longer felt drunk; in fact, he felt better than sober, crystal-clear and hyper-aware of Thrawn's movements, the pattern of his breath (it had a little hitch in it, unnoticeable to any but the dedicated observer), the way he blinked, slowly, before sliding off the seat to his knees in front of Eli.

"Good," Eli said, and cupped Thrawn's chin, running his thumb along the curve of Thrawn's mouth. His lips parted, and Eli slipped a gloved finger inside. His eyes burned into Eli's.

"Suck on it," Eli commanded, and Thrawn closed his lips around Eli's finger and obeyed. His tongue ran along the leather, and Eli shivered, thinking about that nimble tongue on his cock.

"I'm going to make you gag tonight, sir," he told the admiral, and Thrawn's eyes blazed. He didn't stop sucking to reply—Eli hadn't told him he could.

Pleasure in power. Yes, Eli was very familiar with the concept.

"Landing in two minutes," the pilot said over the intercom system.

Eli jumped. Thrawn did not, but he immediately slipped back into his seat and picked up the datapad, by all appearances completely unruffled. There was absolutely no sign that he'd just been on his knees, fellating Eli's finger.

Except for the way his eyes weren't moving over the text on the datapad, or the way he was holding himself so unnaturally still, as if he was holding back the desire to touch Eli by sheer force of will. Which Eli knew he was; he'd seen Thrawn like this before.

The shuttle shuddered as it landed in the loading bay. Eli smoothed out his pants and willed his erection to go down. Thrawn was motionless, staring at the datapad fixedly.

Stars, Eli wanted to wreck him.

The beautiful thing was, Thrawn would let him.

* * *

The bottles, Eli had to admit, _were_ works of art: lily-blue glass and silver embossing in the shape of birds in flight along the base. Eli wondered what Thrawn saw in them.

"It's called _joie_ ," Thrawn said. He filled Eli's glass halfway—which on any other night would've been Eli's job—and pushed it across the table to him with two long fingers. "Tell me how you like it."

Eli picked up the glass and sniffed the clear liquid, then made a face.

"That's strong," he said, and took a sip. " _Mmm._ Very sweet."

He licked his lips thoughtfully and glanced back at Thrawn. Thrawn, who was staring at him with the full intensity he usually reserved for artwork and tactical holos. Eli took another sip, and slowly, deliberately licked his lips again.

Thrawn's eyes dropped to his mouth and flicked back up, so quickly it was almost unnoticeable. Not to Eli.

He set the glass down and slid it across the table to Thrawn, who was still standing.

"Try it," he said. "It's good."

Slowly, Thrawn sat. His own glass was sitting at his elbow, waiting to be filled, but Thrawn picked up Eli's glass instead, and put his lips to the exact spot Eli had drank from. He didn't look away from Eli's face. Eli watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed, and thought about putting his mouth there and nipping at that blue skin.

"Strong to a human," Thrawn said after a moment, a mild correction to Eli's previous statement. "Not to a Chiss."

"Of course it's not," Eli muttered, then asked, "Do you like it?"

"A little sweet for my taste," Thrawn said musingly. His head was tilted slightly to the side as he swirled the liquor in the glass as if it were wine. "I prefer something with more _bite_ to it."

"Oh, do you, now?" Eli asked. "I think I know what you'd prefer, sir."

"I'm sure you do, Commander."

"Then tell me something, Admiral."

Thrawn lifted an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Why are you still sitting in that chair instead of where you're supposed to be?"

"I see," Thrawn said. "You want me on my knees again?"

"For now," Eli said. "Later you'll be on your back. Get down."

Thrawn set the glass down, very carefully, and moved his hands to the zipper of his tunic.

"No, leave it on," Eli ordered. "I like the way you look in it."

"The dress uniform suits you as well, Commander," Thrawn noted, and sank to his knees, as ordered. "Very fetching."

"Thank you, sir." Eli stood and went to Thrawn, stepping around him in a slow circle, admiring him from every angle.

Gently, he brushed his fingers over the crown of Thrawn's head, stroking his immaculate hair. Thrawn swallowed, but made no other motion.

Until Eli grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back hard.

Thrawn hissed, a weirdly reptilian sound that went straight to Eli's cock, and tried to jerk away. Eli didn't let him go, twisting his hair until it pulled tight enough to make Thrawn hiss again.

"Look at you," Eli said. He was filled with a quivery sensation, the taste of power—to have Thrawn on his knees, for _him_ , that calculating mind and honed body willingly at his command—it was more intoxicating than the _joie_ . He dropped to one knee, his face level with Thrawn's, and said in a harsh whisper, "I want to make you moan. _Sir._ "

"You can try," Thrawn said, an edge to his voice, and jerked his way out of Eli's grip to lean in and kiss him.

Thrawn's kisses were never gentle—he kissed like it was a battle to be won, biting Eli's lip, snaking his tongue into his mouth without any build-up or warning. Eli loved it. He grabbed Thrawn by the nape of the neck and put his other arm around his waist, crushing him tight against Eli's body. Thrawn's arms went around Eli's shoulders and his fingers twined in his hair, tugging hard; the admiral gave as good as he got. Eli bit his lower lip hard in retaliation—the metallic taste of blood touched his tongue; oh, he and Thrawn played rough when they wanted—and Thrawn made that delightful noise of pain again, his hands twitching. _Good._ Eli wanted him like this, wanted to see him unravel.

"I made you a promise in the shuttle, remember?" Eli growled into Thrawn's mouth. "Gonna make you gag for me. _On_ me. Are you ready for it?"

Thrawn pulled away, panting. Eli glanced down and was more than pleased to see the shape of his erect cock pressing into his dress pants. Yes, he would have Thrawn moaning his name by the end of the night, he was sure of it.

"I believe," Thrawn said, after Eli courteously gave him a moment to collect himself, "I am adequately prepared."

"Glad to hear it," Eli said dryly, and got to his feet. "You know what to do."

Thrawn looked up at him from under half-lowered lids and corrected, "You know what to do, _sir._ "

"You are just looking to get slapped, aren't you? _Sir,_ " Eli added.

And then followed up on his threat, slapping Thrawn open-handed across the face. He didn't hold back; Thrawn would be angry if he did. The admiral's head snapped to the side with the force of the slap, and he exhaled sharply before looking at Eli again.

"You want another?" Eli asked.

"If you find it appropriate," Thrawn replied. His voice was starting to get ragged. Eli was making progress.

Eli tugged off the leather gloves and gently caressed Thrawn's face, running his nails over those sensitive forehead ridges. Thrawn closed his eyes and shuddered, and Eli took advantage of the moment to slap him again. This time, he felt the sting in the palm of his hand, and there was the faintest imprint of a hand on Thrawn's cheek, deep purple against his blue skin.

"It's so much more satisfying without the gloves," Eli told Thrawn thoughtfully, stroking the handprint with the pads of his fingers.

"I shall have to try it on you someday," Thrawn said, striving for thoughtful but sounding more uneven than anything. Eli's heartbeat picked up at the thought—Eli had never considered being the one slapped around. He could…he could be into that. But not tonight.

He told Thrawn as much, and added, "Don't you have a job to do?"

"My apologies," Thrawn said. He slid his hands up Eli's thighs, his palms hot through the fabric of his pants; Chiss ran a little warmer than humans did. "I shall do better."

"See—see that you do," Eli said, stuttering a little, because Thrawn's nimble fingers were undoing the fastening of his pants and tugging them down. The fabric scraped against Eli's cock and the sensation was electrifying—stars, he needed to be touched. Luckily, he had a very willing-to-please admiral at his command, doing just that.

Thrawn's mouth closed around his cock, and Eli gasped, his eyes fluttering shut. They had done this enough that Thrawn was an expert at manipulating Eli's body, knowing just where to stroke him and when to suck. His tongue laved the underside of Eli's cock, right at the head, where he was most sensitive; Eli twitched, little shivers of pleasure working their way through his body.

Then Thrawn inhaled sharply and took him deeper, sinking onto Eli's cock with relative ease—although he always struggled with that last inch, and tonight was no different.

"You can do it," Eli encouraged when Thrawn paused.

It was—it was _unfair_ to make him talk when Thrawn's hot mouth was wrapped around his cock like this, and unfair of Thrawn to stop right before he'd taken Eli in completely. Thrawn made a humming noise of assent, which vibrated through Eli's cock and made his eyes go wide, and palmed Eli's ass to hold him steady as he took that final inch.

Eli's hips jerked forward; he couldn't help it—it felt too good—and Thrawn gagged as Eli's cock hit the back of his throat. Eli bit back an apology and instead cupped the back of Thrawn's head, refusing to let him pull away.

"I told you," Eli said roughly, "told you I was gonna make you—"

He thrust forward again and tried not to close his eyes, wanting to keep Thrawn in sight, fully-dressed with his admiral's plaque on display, on his knees with Eli's cock in his mouth. Thrawn gagged again, and pushed forward until his lips were firmly wrapped around the base of Eli's cock. He swallowed, and Eli felt the contractions of his throat muscles tighten around his cock.

"Mmm," Eli said incoherently, and wound Thrawn's hair around his fingers. "This—you—"

Thrawn was moving his head up and down, very slightly, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he sucked. And the sounds—the wet sound of his mouth around Eli's cock—the little huffing breaths he made each time he pulled back—Eli felt the tension in his groin crest. He was going to lose it.

But as good as Thrawn looked with Eli's come all over his face and dripping out of his mouth, that wasn't what Eli had planned for the night. He jerked away from Thrawn at the same time he pushed Thrawn back by the shoulders, sending him sprawling, a rare ungraceful moment from the admiral.

"Okay," Eli said, "okay, you—you look so good like this, you know that?"

"You've mentioned," Thrawn said, his voice hoarse, and he _did_ look good—his hair was a mess, his lips swollen, a purple flush across his cheeks, and there was saliva on his uniform from sucking Eli's cock, and those red eyes were glowing bright in the dim room, focused on Eli and only Eli. "How will you have me?"

"On the bed," Eli said, gesturing to the furniture in question. "Clothes off first. I want you on your back, and then I'm going to do to you what you just did to me."

"Yes," Thrawn said, and unzipped his tunic.

Eli undressed too, doing the best he could without taking his eyes off Thrawn. His tunic went first, then his boots and trousers—Eli hopped on one foot while he took off his own boots, knowing he looked ridiculous and not caring in the slightest—then Thrawn pulled his undershirt over his head and stood naked in front of Eli.

He met Eli's stunned gaze, arched an eyebrow, and turned and walked to the bed.

Eli stripped off the rest of his clothes with alacrity and followed him. Thrawn had not quite obeyed instructions, sitting on the edge of the bed instead of lying on his back as ordered, but Eli didn't have the heart to chastise him when it meant he got to push Thrawn around a little more.

He stopped a foot away from the bed and just looked at Thrawn, taking him in. Thrawn watched him with an expression that was dangerously close to neutral. Clearly, Eli still had some work to do.

He took Thrawn's chin in his hand and shook him roughly, just for the hell of it, just because he _could._ Thrawn's eyes went heavy-lidded and his lips parted. Eli wanted to bite them. Instead, he slid his hand down and wrapped his fingers around Thrawn's throat. He squeezed lightly, just enough to be noticeable.

"Yeah," Eli said softly when Thrawn went tense. "It's gonna be like that."

"Eli," Thrawn said, and went silent. His pulse throbbed against Eli's thumb, quicker than usual.

"You can tell me no, you know," Eli said.

Thrawn tilted his head back, which had the dual effect of baring his throat in submission and meeting Eli's eyes.

"I will never need to," he said, his voice full of quiet confidence, and something in Eli lurched pleasantly.

"Good," he said, and was surprised by the heat in his own voice.

He pushed and Thrawn went, letting Eli pin him to the bed by the throat—and yes, _letting_ was the right word; Eli was never so aware of Thrawn's relative size and strength as he was in moments like these. Thrawn could stop him easily—but he chose not to. That did things to Eli, made him want to pin Thrawn down and fuck him hard and tell him who he belonged to—

And there was no reason why he couldn't do just that.

Kneeling on the bed with his hand on Thrawn's throat, Eli considered his options.

The selfish part of him, the part that had no restraint and no filter, wanted to just fuck Thrawn now, take his pleasure from his willing body—but that was jumping into it too quickly. They’d never done that before, although Eli thought that Thrawn would want it anyway. And the more measured part of Eli had a much better idea: work Thrawn over until he was a shivering, gasping mess, and _then_ fuck him. Yes, that sounded like the right plan.

Eli released Thrawn's throat and trailed his fingers down Thrawn's body. The curve of his clavicle was elegant, the planes of his chest hard with muscle. Eli traced a circle around his nipple until he shuddered, then leaned in and took it in his mouth.

Thrawn inhaled sharply and his hand came to rest on Eli's head, gentle, although Eli could feel him trembling. Eli sucked the nipple between his teeth and bit just hard enough to hurt, toying with it; Thrawn's muscles clenched and relaxed in quick succession as his body tried to process the mixed sensations of pain and pleasure. His breath was coming harshly, his jaw tight.

"You can moan, you know," Eli said with a grin. "Don't stay quiet on my account."

Thrawn either didn't deign to answer or was unable to. Eli knew which option he'd prefer. His hand went to Thrawn's other nipple, and he pinched and rolled it between his fingers. Thrawn's fingers twitched on Eli's head and he actually gasped, squirming under Eli's touch.

"Oh, this is great," Eli said happily, and sat up to look at Thrawn's face. The admiral's flush had deepened, and that neutral expression was wiped clean off his face; in its place was something that looked a little like _desperation._ Eli liked that. He liked it a lot.

"You are cruel," Thrawn accused, and Eli laughed.

"Normally I'd disagree," he said. "But right now? Yeah. Yeah, I am."

He leaned over and brushed his lips across Thrawn's, almost instantly regretting it—the gesture was too tender for the type of relationship they had. But Thrawn raised his head to meet his lips, deepening the kiss, so he clearly didn't mind. Eli sighed against his mouth and pulled away.

"I'm not done with you yet," he pointed out when Thrawn looked mildly insulted, and turned his attention to Thrawn's long-neglected cock. Really, the man had infinite patience to go this long without it being touched. Or maybe he just liked the denial. Either way, it was time.

Thrawn was near-human in many ways, but like his facial features, his cock was just different enough to be clearly non-human. Eli ran a finger along its length very lightly, watching it twitch in fascination, the ridges lining the cock pulsing out drips of lubrication.

"Eli," Thrawn said urgently, and Eli glanced up to see him staring at him with burning eyes.

"Yes, sir?" Eli said innocently, and stroked a finger up the side of his cock again.

"You—" And miraculously, words failed Thrawn as Eli finally wrapped his hand around Thrawn's cock and gave it a stroke.

The admiral's head fell back and his eyes shut briefly before he opened them again, looking down at Eli, who was moving his hand in long, slow motions, rubbing the head of his cock with his thumb. He lowered his head and licked a stripe up Thrawn's cock, tasting the slightly-sweet fluid leaking from the ridges and his slit.

The ridges were very sensitive. Eli traced them with his tongue, the part of his brain that hunted down the patterns in everything cataloguing the paths they drew along his cock. Time for the tease; he sucked lightly on the head of his cock, then went back to tracing the ridges, drawing patterns, making Thrawn tremble. On the second go-around, he took more of Thrawn's cock into his mouth, sliding down halfway before releasing it, going back to the slow tracing.

Stars, this was wonderful; Thrawn underneath him, his breathing ragged and his body quivering; Thrawn's cock in his mouth, heavy and solid; knowing that he could do whatever he wanted and Thrawn would let him—Thrawn would _love_ it.

He swirled his fingers along the ridges, gathering up lubrication, and went lower, keeping his mouth on Thrawn's cock. Thrawn parted his legs, and his hand left Eli's head to spread himself open for Eli.

"Mmm," Eli said around his mouthful of cock, in what he hoped was an appreciative tone, and circled the rim of Thrawn's hole delicately before dipping inside, a little aghast at his own daring.

Thrawn _moaned._

Eli couldn't—he really couldn't deal with this. Here he was, fingering Thrawn, and Thrawn was _liking_ it.

And Eli was, absolutely, going to fuck Thrawn tonight.

Two fingers inside, and he was so fucking _tight_ . Eli moved his fingers, not entirely sure how Chiss biology worked in this sense, but whatever he did obviously did the trick, because Thrawn groped for his head and wound his fingers in his hair and said, in a gaspy, almost tremulous voice, " _Eli._ "

"Admiral," Eli said in reply, astonished by how controlled his voice was, and crooked his fingers again.

Thrawn said something in a liquid language Eli didn't know that was either a curse or a prayer, and his hips bucked up against Eli's hand.

"Okay," Eli said, and there were words on his tongue— _greedy, cockslut, whore_ —that he didn't quite dare use—nothing would be worse than ruining this moment. Maybe next time. "Okay. I'm going to—"

"Do it," Thrawn snapped, " _now._ "

"Just for that, I'm gonna draw it out," Eli told him, but he was lying, slicking up his cock with Thrawn's lubrication and pushing the Chiss up further on the bed so he could have a place to kneel. Thrawn went easily, eyes on Eli, and moved as if to turn over.

"I told you, I want you on your back," Eli said firmly, and Thrawn stopped. Eli hesitated a brief moment before saying, "I want to see your face."

"Very well," Thrawn said immediately, and laid back.

He didn't seem to quite know what to do with his legs, or how he should tilt his hips. Eli realized suddenly that Thrawn hadn't done this before. Eli was going to be his first, and that shouldn't be so enticing, but it _was._

"Like this," Eli told him, and guided his hips into position.

Eli’s hands were shaking; he didn't think he'd ever wanted anything this badly in his life. Thrawn had locked eyes with him and Eli couldn't have looked away if he'd wanted to, pinioned by that stare. He lined himself up with Thrawn's entrance and pushed.

Thrawn's mouth dropped open and his eyes went half-lidded with pleasure. He was, Eli decided, a work of art himself. And then Eli was unable to concentrate on anything but the sensation of tight heat around his cock, and the way Thrawn's thighs were trembling in his grip, and the fact that he was getting to fuck the man he had— _been in love with_ , a quiet voice in his head said, and he tried to ignore it— _respected_ , yes, that was the word, for so many years—

Eli began rocking his hips in a slow, luxurious rhythm, losing himself in the pleasure. Thrawn tossed his head back, baring the elegant column of his neck, and moaned Eli's name.

"Oh fuck," Eli said, stunned, and his hips stuttered. "I—sir, Thrawn, I'm gonna—"

"Do it," Thrawn hissed, "come in me, Eli."

And Eli _lost it._

He grabbed Thrawn's hips and pounded into him hard, selfishly, and the noises Thrawn was making were going to be the death of him. He was hissing the words _mine, you're mine,_ but was barely aware of it, too consumed with what he was feeling.

He _was_ aware of Thrawn's hand moving on his own cock, quickly and expertly, and had the foresight to look up at Thrawn's face when he arched his back and came, hard and shuddering, his eyes glassy, his expression wiped blank of anything but bare, raw pleasure, and the sight of that—of Thrawn, falling apart—and the tightening of his muscles around Eli's cock was enough to tip Eli over the edge, too.

* * *

Thrawn was a cuddler. Eli knew this, and yet he marveled over it each time Thrawn took him in his arms and nuzzled against his neck. It was so very unlike the cool, collected Chiss he knew, and so he treasured it every time it happened.

Tonight, Thrawn was especially clingy, almost needy. Eli was glad of it; it was reassurance, in a way, that he hadn't misstepped, hadn't done something unforgivable. And possibly, he thought, Thrawn needed the reassurance, too—stranger things had happened.

Wrapped in a Thrawn-pretzel, he laid on the bed, stroking the admiral's blue-black hair and staring into space.

"You were quite possessive of me tonight," Thrawn said abruptly.

Eli winced, remembering; what had seemed like a perfectly normal thing to say at the moment was, in retrospect, incredibly embarrassing. Where did he get off assuming he had any right to Thrawn, as if they were—as if—

"Sorry about that," he said.

Thrawn shot him a quizzical look. "Why would you apologize? I only wished to point out a corollary," he said.

"A corollary?"

"Yes." Thrawn put his fingers under Eli's chin and tilted his head up to look directly in his eyes. "If I am yours, Eli Vanto, then you are logically mine as well. Do you understand?"

Eli said, without thinking, "Did you think I wasn't yours already?"

Thrawn blinked, considering this for a moment.

"I had hoped," he said, after a pause, "but I didn't want to presume—"

"Neither did I," Eli interrupted. "So you—"

"Yes."

There was no real point in saying the words when they knew the truth already. Eli hummed in happiness. It was strange how, after the twists his life had taken, he had ended up exactly where he wanted to be.

* * *

A loud beeping noise chased Eli out of sleep. Groggily, he rolled over and into Thrawn, who was curled up by Eli’s side, looking bright-eyed and awake, still stark naked.

"Our next assignment," he said.

"Think it's urgent?"

"Most likely," Thrawn replied. "They usually are."

He made no motion to get out of bed.

"You're probably sleeping," Eli pointed out. "It would take you a few minutes to get to it anyway."

"Precisely." But he was already growing antsy; Eli could feel it. Eli sighed and disentangled himself from Thrawn's limbs, sitting up and reaching for his datapad.

"Duty calls," he said, and Thrawn gave him one of his small smiles.

"It always does," he said, reaching for the comlink.

Eli listened to the mission briefing with half an ear as he scrolled through the information on the datapad. A terrorist organization on Trapetov, a Wild Space world Eli was pretty familiar with—his knowledge of their trade routes would come in handy, since the data suggested they were using legitimate merchant ships as a way to smuggle in their weaponry.

Thrawn was getting out of bed, pulling his pants back on. Eli sighed, and acknowledged reality: the night would have had to end eventually, anyway. He dressed quickly; he could probably put on his uniform asleep at this point. Thrawn was waiting for him patiently at the door.

“To the bridge, then?” Eli asked, and Thrawn nodded.

“If you’re ready, Commander,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“Always, sir,” Eli replied, and followed him out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [xenoarcana](http://xenoarcana.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to come yell about this ship with me!


End file.
